Page 5 of A Forgery of Fate

Inside the kitchen, I found Mama sobbing. At first I thought it was over the broken pot of waterbells, the mangled flowers and orange clay pieces scattered across the tiled floor.

Then I saw the letter in her hand.

My heart sank and sank until I could hardly breathe. All I could croak out was one word: “Baba.”

I’d never forget how the air leaked out of Mama as she spun to look at me. How the muscle in her jaw jumped and her lips pinched together tight, as if she wished, for my sake, that I were still asleep. She sagged against the wall, and the letter dropped from her hand. I caught it before it fell into the puddle of dirt.

The paper was wet at the creases, the bright red ink smeared from old rain. The characters in Baba’s name were missing a few strokes—bureaucrats never knew how to translate his name to A’landan—but even so it was clear enough:To the Family of Arban Saigas.

The rims of my eyes were burning, and the ink blurred as I read. Baba’s ship had been caught in a storm. Most of the crew had survived, thanks to him. But Baba was lost.

Lost.The word exploded in my head, and suddenly I felt like I was swimming in the pages of Nomi’s dictionary, trying to find a meaning of the word that wasn’tmissing,vanished,gone.

Dead.

No, no, it couldn’t be.

“Is Baba…” I couldn’t say it. My knees buckled, and a strangled cry tore out of my throat instead. Mama covered my mouth with her hand.

“Don’t wake your sisters. Let them sleep a little while longer.”

It was too late for that. Nomi was behind the door, her jacket half-buttoned as she slipped out of the shadows. She had heard everything. Falina too.

Falina scooped Nomi up in her arms. My youngest sister’s lips had turned bluish, and she clutched at her chest as she coughed, her lungs convulsing with shock.

Tears welled in Fal’s eyes as she patted our sister’s back. “Stop it, Nomi.”

Not knowing what else to do, I reached for Nomi’s hand, wiped her nose with my sleeve.It’ll be all right,I wanted to tell her.Fal and I will take care of you.

But the words wouldn’t come. Only tears.

I held my sisters, desperately rewriting the morning in my head. A morning where Baba came back like he always did. With presents, with little carved animals and sweet treats wrapped in banana leaves, and new stories. Any moment, he’d stride through the door.

But as the seconds passed, it became clear that each scene I envisioned was an illusion. A fanciful dream and nothing more. Nothing could undo the stinging reality of Mama slumped against the wall, Baba’s name in red smearing the crescents of her fingernails. Baba, dead.

That was when Mama blurted, “Your father isn’t dead.”

Nomi gasped for air. “What?”

“He isn’t dead,” Mama repeated.

Fal looked up, unsure. “But that letter…Baba…Baba’s lost at sea.”

“Lostonly means he hasn’t been found yet,” said Mama. “I’m the best fortune teller in Gangsun. That means I’m practically the best in the world.”

“Can you find him?” Nomi dared ask.

“Yes,” she said. “But I’ll need money first.” Her jaw tightened. “Your father didn’t leave us much of that.”

Her tone was thick, not with resentment but with worry. This was a side of Mama I’d never seen before. She put on her gloves, picked up her basket. “Sweep the floor. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Where are you going?”

Mama hesitated. “To buy more rice.”

I knew the rice was just a cover. She was going to confront Baba’s business partners for answers—and for money. Now that he wasn’t coming back…

Using my sleeve, I blotted Nomi’s tears. “Cry all you need,” I said, holding her close.

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